A Musketeer's Motto
by Tanith2011
Summary: An accident tests the motto of the musketeers.


_**AN: Something unexpected that popped into my mind today. A little silly light hearted fun for my first dip into this fandom. Dedicated to Romirola who introduced me to this highly addictive series.**_

 _ **Thank you in advance for reading!**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

All for one and one for all, the motto could be seen written across the faces of the three musketeers as they circled their newest recruit, a Gascon by the name of d'Artagnan. There was no way of smoothing things over. Not when the grimness of the situation stared right back at them.

When the silence became unnerving, Porthos was first to speak up.

"How bad is it, Aramis?" the big man asked, unable to contain his worry.

"Well…" Aramis began but stopped himself when he caught the look on d'Artagnan's face.

"Allow me to put it this way, my friend. It's as bad as it can get," Athos commented drily.

Aramis turned back to his wounded comrade and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "Well, I've done all I can."

The young Gascon groaned then frantically grabbed the medic's tunic. "Constance is not to know about this!"

"That's going to be somewhat difficult to hide," said Athos. "Considering, _you know_."

"She is going to kill me." Porthos shook his head.

"d'Artagnan, if you had any regrets when it came to teaching Madame Bonacieux how to shoot a musket, now is the time," Aramis added.

"Wait, wait! What do you mean exactly about teaching Constance how to shoot?" Porthos cut in. He waved a hand dramatically in front of d'Artagnan's face. "Have you gone completely mad?"

Aramis straightened up and folded his arms thoughtfully, exchanging curious glances between d'Artagnan and Porthos.

"She's not that good yet," d'Artagnan defended, though with very little conviction behind his words.

"I think you're both suicidal. I want no part in this," Athos stoically announced, his face remained an expressionless mask.

"What about the musketeer motto, all for one and one for all?" d'Artagnan barely contained a whine from creeping through his voice.

"You know, he has a point," Porthos agreed all too enthusiastically.

Aramis shared a look with Athos though the latter rolled his eyes shortly after. "It's not our fault our brothers can't play nice with their sticks."

"Come now, Athos. At least they weren't practicing with real swords this time," Aramis reasoned. A grimace creased his handsome features. "I'd hate to imagine the mess if real blades were involved."

"How bad?" d'Artagnan repeated, though he feared what the answer would entail.

"Go on. The boy has the right to know," Porthos urged.

"Ahem…his funeral…I mean, he should know," Athos reluctantly agreed, somewhat enjoying the scene before him.

"Very well," Aramis sighed. He picked up a silver tray and turned the mirrored surface toward d'Artagnan.

"Oh no," the Gascon moaned, seeing his reflection.

"Well whad didya expect two black eyes and a broken nose to look like?" said Athos.

"I can't go to the Royal ball looking like this! I promised Constance a night she'd remember." d'Artagnan protested.

"Oh tis'll be a night to remember, alright," Porthos mumbled quietly.

"Constance is not a vain woman. She loves you unconditionally," supplied Athos. It was, perhaps, the most heart-felt thing he had said throughout the conversation. It was true, he thought. In all seriousness, he knew Constance loved d'Artagnan with all her heart. Their teasing mostly stemmed from her sometimes motherly concern whenever their young friend was hurt.

Before Aramis could try to console d'Artagnan, a knock on the door turned all their heads.

Captain Treville ducked his head in the doorway and frowned. "Madam Bonacieux is just outside the garrison."

"Stall her!" d'Artagnan pleaded.

"No amount of stalling is going to give you enough time to heal before you have to face your beloved," Aramis said, giving the Gascon's shoulder a friendly squeeze.

A chuckle rose from deep in Athos' throat and he reached for the bottle of brandy. Taking a swig to hide the laughter that was threatening to manifest itself, he swallowed then cleared his throat. "All for one?"

Porthos, Aramis, Athos and Captain Treville nodded to one another before hastily hurrying out the door with a disjointed "One for all" spoken together as they made their escape.

"Cowards!" d'Artagnan hissed.

END


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